


Ba-Bam! Bang! The Rhythms of Percussive Instruments (are ringing through the air)

by shatterthefragments



Series: Musician Sam [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Aromantic Character, Aromantic!Sam Winchester, Drums, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary!Sam Winchester, percussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 17:11:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2317037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatterthefragments/pseuds/shatterthefragments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester's pretty happy to keep banging on their drums.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ba-Bam! Bang! The Rhythms of Percussive Instruments (are ringing through the air)

Sam slides their hand across the leathery surface of the top of the skin. It's stretched right between the metal rings that hold the skin tightly.  


Sam starts to bang it – rhythms and melodies crackle through the air. The thrumming of the single drum turns to other sounds. Sam hits the edge of the rim lightly before starting to use the rest of their drum kit.

 

Cymbals ring out and the kicking bass has a steady beat of _ONE, TWO-AND-A, THREE-AND, FOUR._

The snare's rhythm cuts through and makes itself known, even above the loud crashing reverberating throughout the room.

 

The music being made in this room were unmistakably nothing that could be tied to anything you've heard before.

 

Sam's hair flies everywhere. It obscures their view of the drums, but it makes no difference to Sam's abilities to play them.

 

 

 

 

Setting them up so that the kit was perfectly arranged for them, Sam had fiddled around with the setup for so long that Dean had mocked mercilessly with “Hey Sam, you nesting or something?” until Sam had finally gotten it to the point where it was perfect. Sam knew every single curve and plane and the exact parameters of their kit.

 

 

Pure energy.

 

That was how many people described Sam's playing.

 

At first, people were hesitant to even consider hiring a tall, long-haired, nonbinary person for even studio recordings, but eventually they had to acknowledge that Sam was one of the best drummers that they'd ever heard in a long time.

And what they loved about Sam most is that they enjoyed playing a lot. Sam would just rock out in the studio or on tour and everybody loved them.

 

Sam's love of playing the drums had _officially_ started in the sixth grade, when they started on percussion and then graduated to the drum kit. Unofficially, Sam started to drum out rhythms far before any drums came into the picture.

 

Dean loved to tell tales of how Sam would bang anything and everything as soon as their hands could grab hold of anything without dropping it. Chopsticks, just their own hands, cutlery, among every object in their house were constantly hitting every available surface.

 

When they were playing the drums were generally the only times when Sam made a lot of noise. They were very private and preferred not to speak unless there was a reason.

 

Dean often complained that for all Sam played when they were at home, they only ever played classics for Dean's birthday, and even then, it was mostly only ever Eye Of The Tiger or Stairway To Heaven.

 

But then again, Sam wasn't really home all that often.

 

Sam was often on tour with their latest “musical conquest” or in the studio they founded. Constantly pounding out new beats, Sam was the most highly sought after drummer in the United States of America.

 

Not just for the drum kit either – Sam was an expert on all things _percussion_.

 

They helped starting bands find a name for themselves if they deemed them to be good enough and most of the time, the band that received Sam's help would become famous for at least a couple of years or so.

 

Sam sometimes taught percussion theory when they were in town in between tours. The kids loved them and so did some of the older folks too. They loved sharing the passion of music in an interactive way, and people loved the way that they taught.

 

Drifting around on tour from city to city, picking up people in bars to hook up with, was how Sam liked it. They got the best of both the touring world and the world that awaited them at home and at the studio.

 

They always came back home to their brother, who had settled down with a woman named Lisa, but they didn't find any appeal in a romantic relationship – and most people couldn't understand that – often spending their whole lives dreaming of a fairytale romance.

 

 

 

 

There isn't anybody else in the room right now, but the room is full. Filled with Sam, their passion for the music they create, and their talent with their chosen tool of the trade.

 

The music doesn't echo through the room, but that's only because Sam made sure that the room was both soundproof and absolutely wouldn't echo. It actually took four remodels before Sam was completely satisfied with the quality of the room. Some called them a diva for it. Some applauded them for not settling for anything less than the best.

 

Besides, the studio and their music room were the only real luxuries that Sam allowed themselves.

 

They otherwise live in a regular old suburban neighbourhood with an eco-friendly car and spoil their nephew when they get to visit.

 

They lose themselves in the rhythms, eventually coming out of the music induced high enough to stop their little recording device and load it to the computer as they started to tap out some more rhythms on their thigh.

 

This is when Sam's the happiest.

 

Free with the purity of their drums surrounding them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if the representation isn't very good.  
> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
